Emotion Hunter: System Awakening.

[Riven's POV]

The Third day.....

And am still here.

That thought was the first thing that hit when Riven opened his eyes, staring at the bottom of the bunk above him.

The metal frame had a rust stain that looked like a bird if you tilted your head right. He'd spent half the night staring at it instead of sleeping.

The bunk room was already stirring. Someone in the corner was coughing.... But everyone else pretend not to notice.

Lisa was already gone, her bunk made like it was arranged by a five star hotel caretaker.....which in turn made his own rumpled sheets look pathetic.

Should probably fix that..... Details matter here, I don't wanna be kicked out over something as simple as bedmaking after all...

Riven forced himself upright, every muscle protesting.

The ache had changed from yesterday....that felt less sharp was screaming again.

The guy in the bunk across from him.... Jack, the two-week veteran who kept talking about resource allocation yesterday, was watching him with calculating eyes.

"You're up early," Jack said.

"Yeah, Couldn't sleep."

"I heard your a guild escapee.....so was it a guild nightmare?" he asked with a raised brow.

The question was casual, but the interest behind it wasn't.

Everyone in provisional housing had some story about how they ended up here.....

But...

Everyone was trying to figure out whose story made them more valuable, more worth keeping.

"Something like that." Riven answered him as he shrugged his shoulders.

Jack nodded like he understood, but how could he? He'd come here from a settlement collapse, lost his home but not his humanity.... At least.

While Riven had been strapped to a chair while they pulled apart someone else's memories just to see how his system would react.

Not the same thing at all.

The bathroom line was already six people deep. Riven joined it, trying not to think about how the close quarters made his skin crawl.

Everyone standing too close, the smell of too many bodies in too small a space.

Just breathe. In for four, hold for four, out for four. Elena's technique again.

Wonder how she's doing.

In the Medical wing, Vale did say that she's Probably getting actual treatment instead of whatever patchwork recovery I'm managing.

The shower water was cold by the time his turn came to enter the bathroom.

He scrubbed quickly, watching rust-colored water circle the drain.

That's not all dirt. Some of that's dried blood from blisters that keep reopening.

His hands looked different now. He has Calluses forming... His skin is also rougher.... Well, now am having Working hands instead of student hands.

Mom would've made some comment about him finally learning the value of hard work.

Dad would've just taught me how to do it right the first time.

That thought came with the usual spike of guilt and grief that he'd learned to shove down before it paralyzed him. There's No time for that.

Not when he had maybe twenty-seven days left to prove he deserved to stay here.

---

The morning courtyard was louder than yesterday. Something was different... more energy, more tension.

People clustered in tighter groups, conversations seemed more of a gossip than actual conversations.

"What's going on?" Riven asked Lisa when he spotted her near the assignment board.

"Convoy mission got updated. They moved the departure to tomorrow instead of next week. It seems like some kind of urgent supply situation."

Tomorrow huh. That meant anyone who wanted to volunteer had maybe twelve hours to make the decision.

"Are you going too?" he asked.

Lisa was chewing her thumbnail, a nervous habit he'd noticed yesterday. "I don't know. It's four days through hostile territory with people who barely know my name....But it's also the fastest track to permanent status I'm going to get."

"Lisa Park, Riven Duke... construction crew seven."

"Huh??... Seems we're in the same crew today" Riven was surprised... He always thought she would stay in the medical line.

"h-huh, yeah I guess" Lisa answered absent minded.

Seems they can even shovel us around too.

It was the same assignment.

Back to section twelve, back to learning from Jim while trying not to embarrass himself.

Could be worse....Could be waste management.

But as they walked to the work site, Riven couldn't stop thinking about the convoy mission.

Tomorrow. Four days. Priority consideration for advancement.... These were all words circulating Riven's head.

Are you seriously considering this? You've been here three days. You can barely use your system without someone noticing, you don't know the terrain, and you're still having panic attacks in crowded rooms..... He continues he's self monologue...

But the alternative was spending the next four weeks hauling concrete and hoping that was enough to stand out from sixteen other provisional residents who were all trying to prove the same thing.

---

Miguel was already at section twelve, organizing equipment. He nodded at Riven... still not quite friendly, but the hostility had definitely faded.

"Jim's running late. Medical checkup or something.... Danny wants you on wall inspection until he gets here."

Wall inspection?? That's new...

That meant climbing the outer defenses, checking for cracks and weak points.

Height didn't bother Riven, but being exposed on top of the wall while trying to identify structural problems felt like a test he might fail.

"Sure thing." but he accepted anyway.

The ladder up to the wall was old metal that creaked under his weight. Each rung felt less stable than the last, rust flaking off onto his gloves.

This is fine. Just don't look down. Or think about falling. Or imagine the ladder giving way....

Great. Now that's all I can think about!!! . He looked down in horror.... But kept climbing.

The top of the wall offered a view of the settlement that was both impressive and depressing. Impressive because of how much they'd rebuilt from nothing. Depressing because of how much still needed work.

And beyond the walls, the Scar Zone stretched out in all its twisted glory.

Buildings bent into impossible shapes, streets that curved up walls, patches of ground that rippled like water despite being solid concrete.

That's where the convoy goes. Through that nightmare landscape for four days straight.... Sigh... People sure are desperate.

A voice behind him made him jump, nearly losing his balance. "Careful. Long drop."

Jim had arrived, climbing the ladder "Danny said you're checking for stress fractures. Seen anything yet?"

"Just got up here."

"Then start looking. Wall inspection isn't about standing around enjoying the view."

Right. Work.

Riven moved along the wall's walkway, running his hands over the concrete surface like Jim had taught him.

Feeling for texture changes, temperature variations, anything that might indicate deeper problems.

His mind kept wandering to the convoy posting.

Four days. Priority consideration.....A chance to actually prove he was worth keeping instead of hoping steady work would be enough.

You're thinking about this like you have a choice. You don't. You're barely functional, your system is half-trained, and you've been here seventy-two hours....his inner voice kept beating him down.

But Elena got permanent consideration almost immediately. Because she had valuable skills they needed.

What do I have? The ability to steal emotions and turn them into temporary physical boosts? That's not valuable, that's just weird.

"Found something," Jim said from twenty feet away. He was kneeling, inspecting a section of wall that looked fine to Riven's untrained eye. "Come look at this."

The crack was hairline-thin, almost invisible unless you knew where to look. But Jim traced it with one finger, following its path across multiple concrete blocks.

"See how it crosses the joints? That means the damage goes deeper than the surface. This section's compromised."

"How can you tell?"

"Experience.... And the pattern recognition. Same way you spotted that load-bearing problem with Miguel." Jim stood, brushing dust off his knees. "You've got good instincts, kid. Question is whether you've got the patience to develop them properly."

The patience to spend weeks learning construction techniques while seventeen other people competed for the same limited spots that is.... Sigh..

"What if I don't have weeks?" Riven asked before he could stop himself.

Jim studied him with those weathered eyes that had seen too much. "You thinking about the convoy mission huh?? ."

"Maybe."

"Don't."

"Why not?"

"Because you're not ready for that stuff." Jim pointed at the crack they'd just identified. "You see problems, but you don't know how to fix them yet. Same thing applies to survival in the Scar Zone. You might spot the danger, but that doesn't mean you can handle it."

"But, someone has to go."

"Someone experienced has to go. Not someone who's been here three days and thinks risking his life is the only way to prove himself."

The criticism hit harder because it was accurate. That was exactly what he was thinking.

"How else do I stand out then?" Riven asked. "Elena got permanent consideration right away because she has 'skills' they need. What do I have?"

Jim was quiet for a long moment, still studying that hairline crack like it held answers to questions Riven hadn't asked.

"You know why I'm teaching you?" Jim finally said. "Not because Danny told me to. Because you pulled Miguel out of that collapse using your head instead of just muscle. You saw the structural relationships and made the right calls under pressure."

"That was just pure luck."

"No, it wasn't. It was pattern recognition.... It's even happening faster than your conscious thought. That's a rare skill, and it's valuable." Jim turned to face him directly. "But it takes time to develop properly. You going on that convoy mission tomorrow, means you're not giving yourself that time. You're rolling dice and hoping luck keeps carrying you."

"What if luck is all I've got?"

"Then you're dead already. Luck runs out. But skills don't."

They worked in silence for the next hour, Jim teaching him how to properly evaluate wall integrity while Riven's mind kept circling back to the same question.

Do I play it safe and hope steady work is enough? Or do I take the risk that might set me apart?

---

Lunch break found the crew gathered in their usual spot, but the conversation was different today.

Devy was talking about the convoy mission with the kind of enthusiasm that suggested she didn't fully understand what she was volunteering for.

"It's a four days trip, but it has hazard pay, and priority consideration. That's everything I need to make permanent status."

"You ever been outside the walls?" Miguel asked.

"Not since I got here. But how bad can it be?"

"Bad enough that half the people who volunteer don't come back."

That stopped the conversation cold.

"That's not true," Devy protested, but her voice carried less certainty than before.

"Last convoy lost two people to a dimensional storm," Danny said quietly. "The one before that came back with three wounded. It's not a field trip, Devy. It's dangerous work."

"So is construction. Miguel almost died two days ago."

"Almost. But didn't. Because we had medical support sixty seconds away." Danny gestured toward the settlement walls. "Out there, you're hours from help. And the things that hunt in the Scar Zone are smarter than collapsed walls."

Riven listened to the debate while eating his sandwich, trying to sort through his own thoughts.

Everyone had opinions about the convoy mission, but nobody had answers that felt definitive.

Jim caught his eye from across the group and shook his head slightly. A clear message: Don't do it.

But Jim didn't understand. He'd been here since the beginning, had seven years of proving himself. He had permanent status and a defined role in the settlement's operations.

But

I've got three days and a ticking clock.

"What about you?" Miguel asked, turning to Riven. "You thinking about volunteering?"

Everyone looked at him. Waiting for an answer he didn't have.

"Still deciding," he managed.

"Smart," Danny said. "Too many people make that decision impulsively and regret it when they're staring down a pack of Veil creatures with no backup."

The conversation moved on, but Riven couldn't focus. His mind kept running scenarios, weighing risks against potential rewards, trying to calculate odds that probably couldn't be calculated.

Through his system, he could feel the crew's various feelings about the convoy mission.

Devy's excitement mixed with buried fear.

Miguel's respect for people brave enough to volunteer mixed with contempt for people stupid enough to think they were ready.

Danny's quiet grief.... probably remembering people who'd volunteered and didn't come back.

Stop analyzing everyone's emotions and figure out your own. What do YOU want to do?... He shouted in his mind.

But that was the problem. He didn't know what he wanted. He just knew what he needed... to stay here, to get stronger, to eventually have the power to find his family or at least stop the Guild from destroying more lives.

Everything else was just guessing about which path might get him there.

---

The afternoon shift felt longer than usual. Every minute stretched out while Riven's mind kept circling back to the same question.

By the time Rodriguez called the end of work, Riven had made no progress toward a decision. Just accumulated more information that didn't add up to an answer.

Lisa was waiting outside provisional housing again, but this time she wasn't alone.

Claire and Jack were there too, along with a few other provisional residents whose names Riven hadn't learned yet.

"Meeting of the desperate," Lisa said when she saw him approaching. "We're trying to figure out who's actually going to volunteer for this suicide mission."

"I am," Claire said immediately. "Two weeks of construction work got me nowhere. This is my shot."

"It's a shot at getting killed though ," Jack countered.

"Maybe. But it's a shot at something." Claire looked at the others. "What about the rest of you?"

One by one, people offered their reasoning. Most were variations on the same theme... work wasn't enough, they needed something more, the convoy was their best option even if it was dangerous.

"Riven?" Lisa asked. "You've been quiet."

"Am still thinking."

"Well think faster.... The volunteer deadline is tonight at eighteen hundred hours. That's three hours from now."

Three hours to make a decision that could determine whether he lived or died, whether he got permanent status or got kicked out, whether this settlement became home or just another temporary stop in a life of running.

No pressure.

He excused himself from the group, climbing the maintenance ladder to the roof where he'd spent last night.

The same view, the same twisted landscape, the same impossible question.

What would Marcus do? His friend would probably tell him to play it safe, build relationships, trust the process.

But Marcus wasn't here. Marcus was back at the Guild facility, probably going through the same conditioning that had turned Sarah into a weapon.

What would Elena do?

Elena had skills they immediately recognized as valuable. She didn't need to take risks because her worth was obvious.

What would my parents do?

His mom would probably tell him to be smart, to think long-term instead of making desperate choices. His dad would... actually, Dad would probably tell him to trust his instincts and accept the consequences.

Great. Even my imaginary family can't agree.

The sun was starting its descent, painting the Scar Zone in shades of orange and red that made the dimensional distortions look almost beautiful. Almost.

Somewhere out there, beyond the twisted buildings and warped streets, were other settlements. Other communities of people trying to survive in a world that kept trying to kill them.

And somewhere even farther, in a Veil that had been gradually destroying them for eighteen years, his family was waiting. If they were even still alive. If the math about time dilation was even remotely accurate.

You're not going to find them by playing it safe in New Eden. You need power. You need training. You need to prove you're worth investing in..... The devil on his shoulder continued to coax Riven to go.

But you also need to survive long enough to develop those things. The angle on his right shoulder kept giving him good reasons not to go.... Making everything a mess.

The volunteer deadline was in two hours and forty-seven minutes. He kept thinking about the deadline while his thoughts ran wild.

Riven sat on the roof's edge and tried to figure out which version of himself he was going to be.

The one who played it safe and hoped it was enough?

Or the one who took risks and dealt with the consequences?

Below him, New Eden continued its evening routines. Completely unaware that one provisional resident was having an existential crisis about whether to volunteer for a mission that might kill him.

The sun kept setting.

The clock kept ticking.

And Riven still didn't have an answer.